Leo’s POV
I ran through the crowded streets, pushing past people until I reached the edge of the village where the border inn stood. My lungs burned—not from the run, but from the weight of a hope I was too terrified to na.
I burst through the heavy wooden doors of the inn, my Alpha presence making the room go silent. I didn’t care about being polite. I scanned the room until I saw a man packing a leather bag in a corner.
"Mat?" I growled.
The man jumped, dropping a bundle of furs. "Yes, Alpha? How can I help you?"
I didn’t waste ti. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the thread bangle I had taken from the market stall, holding it right in front of his face. "Where did you get this? And don’t tell ’Nigeria.’ I want to know exactly who made it."
Mat swallowed hard, his eyes darting to my raw, bloodied knuckles. "It was... it was from a small village in the mountains of Nigeria, Alpha. A local market. I bought a whole batch of them because they were so unique."
"Who made them?" I pressed, my voice dropping—low, tight, almost unwilling to ask. "Was it... a young woman?"
Mat shook his head quickly. "No, Alpha. It was an old lady. A healer, I think. She said the pattern was ancient."
No.
It had to be her. It had to be.
My heart, which had been racing, suddenly felt like it had been dunked in ice water. An old woman. Of course. What was I thinking? I was a fool. Scarlett had been dead for three years. I had seen the "remains" after the rogue attack; I had listened to the seers tell her spirit had moved on.
I looked down at the thread in my hand. Maybe Scarlett wasn’t the only one who knew the pattern. Maybe that old book her grandmother had wasn’t as rare as she thought.
"The lady," I said, my voice sounding hollow. "Did she have a book? An old one with a leather cover?"
Mat looked confused. "I don’t know about a book, Alpha. She was just a lonely old woman selling her crafts to travelers. Alpha, is there sothing wrong?"
"Nothing," I snapped, tossing the bangle back to him.
I turned and walked out of the inn, my mind a war zone. What was I thinking? Was I really hoping that a piece of string ant she was still alive? I was an Alpha, yet I was acting like a child chasing a fairy tale. But the pattern was too perfect. Every knot was exactly how Scarlett used to tie them when we were kids.
I decided not to tell my brothers about what I had found. They were already struggling enough, and I didn’t want to give them a false hope that would only end in more pain. Scarlett was dead. I had to accept that once and for all. I had to stop being a fool who chased ghosts across the world.
I reached the packhouse, my body feeling heavy with exhaustion. I skipped the anniversary lunch entirely, went straight to my wing of the house, and took a long, cold bath. I needed the ice-cold water to numb my skin and quiet my racing thoughts. Afterward, I lay on the bed and forced myself to close my eyes, hoping that sleep would take away the noise in my head.
I didn’t know how long I had been asleep, but a strange sensation pulled back to consciousness. I felt hands moving over —soft, but they felt like spiders crawling on my skin.
The air felt wrong—thick, bitter, like sothing rotting.
I opened my eyes and saw Bianca leaning over . But sothing was wrong. The room itself felt poisoned, heavy with the sharp scent of burnt herbs. I realized imdiately that she was casting a spell on . My wolf, Shadow, growled low in my mind, sensing the dark energy trying to wrap around our senses.
She thought she was being clever. She thought she could play the sa trick she had played on a year ago. But she had no idea that my brothers and I had spent the last twelve months fortifying ourselves. We had trained our minds and our wolves to resist outside influence. We were no longer the innocent, naive Alphas she and her sisters had taken advantage of. We were now immune to any spell.
I decided to act as if the spell were working. I wanted to see exactly how far she would go.
"Leo," she whispered, her voice sounding unnatural and forced. "I command you to stay still and make love to ."
She blew a puff of air toward my face, and a dark, shimring substance floated out of her mouth. It was a compulsion spell, ant to strip away my will. She leaned down, her face full of a desperate, greedy look, and tried to kiss .
A wave of pure rage and bitterness washed over . Looking at her, I felt a disgust so deep it made my blood boil. I didn’t just want her away from ; I wanted her gone. Every second her skin touched mine felt like a violation of the mory of the only woman I ever loved.
Before her lips could touch mine, sothing inside snapped.
I grabbed her shoulders—hard—and drove my full Alpha strength into her.
I didn’t hold back. I unleashed everything, pushing her away with so much force that she flew off the bed like she had been hit by a truck.
She hit the opposite wall with a sickening, heavy thud that sounded like bones snapping, then crumpled to the floor in a heap. She didn’t move. She didn’t even make a sound.
I frowned and got off the bed, my chest heaving and my muscles trembling with adrenaline. I walked over to her limp body and looked down at her. Her head was tilted at an awkward angle against the baseboard, and a thin, dark trail of blood began to seep from her temple, soaking into the expensive, cream-colored carpet.
I nudged her shoulder with my foot, expecting her to groan or hiss at .
Nothing.
"Bianca?" I muttered, my frown deepening as a heavy silence filled the room.
A second passed.
Then another.
Still nothing. Not even the faint rise and fall of her chest.
My heart went cold—but not with fear.
With realization.
I hadn’t just defended myself.
I might have just killed the daughter of the Lucianos’ strongest ally.
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